Restraint
by vicioux
Summary: When Grimmjow takes it upon himself to lecture you about restraint, you know you're in trouble. When he takes it upon himself to do so because of your screaming matches with an annoying midget coworker, you're in even more. And when you're also rather attracted to said midget... Ichigo Kurosaki may just be in over his head. Set in the 'Mixing Business With Pleasure' universe.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: You'd think it'd be clear by now…**

**Listening to: Bloc Party – "She's Hearing Voices".**

**Restraint**

_**The first Friday**_

The offices of Shihoun Constructions were typically a pleasant place to be. The glass and chrome surfaces were juxtaposed with warm timber floors and the sort of views granted to those fortunate enough to be numerous stories in the air. The atmosphere was also a contrast to the rather minimalist décor; while everyone appeared to be quite busy, there was an air of relaxed camaraderie that made the entire scene look rather inviting and enjoyable – and it usually was.

Usually, of course, being the operative word.

"Don't you dare talk to me like _I'm_ an idiot, and you're some sort of intellectual second coming. The ability to reach stuff on the top shelf doesn't make you more highly evolved, jackass! It just means that the blood takes longer to get to that lone brain cell rattling around your skull!"

"Look midget, height-related jealousy aside, I know what I'm doing when it comes to interior aesthetics. I even have qualifications – you know, those things you get when you're not lucky enough to have been born with the entire fucking silver dinner service in that big mouth of yours."

"How _do_ you make it out the door every morning? Surely your swollen head would have to get stuck somewhere along the line. You are not the only person in the world who ever got a degree; in fact, you're not even the only person in this room - "

"Honourary degrees for the rich and famous don't count, Kuchiki."

"I _worked_ for my degree, you unspeakable - "

"I guess there's a first time for everything, then."

"I'm starting to think that Kami-sama gave you that ridiculous hair colour to warn all sane people not to interact with you, because the experience is quite possibly the most excruciating thing I've undergone in a long while."

The corner office on the twenty-second floor, however, was a dedicated warzone every Friday from lunch onward.

Rukia Kuchiki flicked the strands of her sleek ebony bob into place and glared at her current adversary with violet eyes. That glare, her sharp tongue, and her crisp white shirt, jet black pencil skirt and heels were quite possibly the only things helping her maintain something like order in this meeting. The first two were helping her get more than a few words in and the latter… Well, at least the outfit helped her feel like she belonged in this setting.

Taking a deep breath, she tried again, false sweetness dripping from her tone. "Well, perhaps my suggestions will not work in the space. This seems to be fair, seeing that some of the detail in the plans has changed from last week – a thing that might have been helpful to know. I think we managed to agree, however, that these pieces suited the overall tone of what we were trying to achieve. Is there anywhere else they might go?"

Her sparring partner snorted. "I'll take it home and look it over, but I won't be holding my breath."

_Pity_, Rukia couldn't help but think.

He stood up. "Look, I've had my fill of Kuchiki 'wit' for the day. I'll let you know if you've actually managed to come up with something. For the love of Kami, don't commit us to anything before we've signed off on it here."

With that, he strode out of the room, leaving Rukia no opportunity to inform him that such a practice was unprofessional, and of the two of them, she was fairly sure that she had the more professional track record _thank you very much_.

It also left her no chance to throw something solid at his head, which was probably a good thing as it would have negated that professional track record she was so eager to establish.

Since her brother had announced that he was finally building a luxury hotel in their home town and, more to the point, since he'd agreed to let her become involved, Rukia had been on quite the emotional rollercoaster. She'd gone from being elated that Byakuya was letting her take part in the family business at long last, even though she wasn't technically a Kuchiki, to even more ecstatic when she'd been able to reconnect with her childhood friend Renji. It had only gotten better when she had introduced said childhood friend to her own adopted brother…

And then it had all come crashing down. Oh, sure, Renji and Byakuya were doing great, and she was ever so grateful that all of the bedrooms at home were soundproofed, but the problems had come with her role in Shihoun Constructions, the firm that was building the current project. Yoruichi Shihoun, the company president and a friend of Byakuya's, was lots of fun and, despite the general aura of eccentricity that surrounded Kisuke Urahara, the head architect, he was rather entertaining to spend time with. The real issue was her contact among the architects and designers.

To the professional world, he was Ichigo Kurosaki, award-winning architect.

To Rukia, he was Ichigo Kurosaki, award-winning asshat.

Byakuya had entrusted her with finding suitable artworks for the entirety of the hotel; a mammoth task, even considering the rather boutique nature of the business he was planning to open. Given her background in the field – five years of working as an appraiser and part time gallery curator – she knew that while it was going to be an effort to source over two hundred pieces, it was a job that she was more than capable of doing. All she had to do was check in each week with one of the architects to ensure that what she was selecting fit with the current designs for each room.

Unfortunately, that architect was the very same complete and utter bastard who had mocked her height the second she had walked through the doors.

Rukia wasn't an insecure woman, but the one thing that bothered her about her appearance was her diminutive stature. It meant people typically just treated her like a child, despite the fact that she was an adult and probably better educated than they were. The one other thing she really hated was when people assumed she had always had money. Rukia had grown up not on the wrong side of the tracks, per say, but she had been fairly close. The only reason she was even in this position was because her sister, Hisana, had earned a scholarship to study medicine at a prestigious university and, in doing so, had met Byakuya Kuchiki.

Hisana's death, at a very young age, had thrown Rukia among the Kuchikis without a protector for some time. Byakuya had only begun to emerge from his grief a few years ago, by which time Rukia had already developed a sharp tongue, a quick temper and the ability to usually keep them both in check unless needed.

Unfortunately, Ichigo Kurosaki brought both of the more unfortunate traits to the fore.

Rukia sighed to herself, as she began to pack the rest of the photos she had brought in back into her folder. She had to concede, sadly, that the problems whenever they interacted weren't solely Ichigo's fault. As aggravating as he could be, she _did_ consistently rise to the bait, and more than once she had been the instigator of their more unfriendly exchanges. That was one reason, she supposed, why she had not complained about his conduct; hers wasn't much better. The other, and far more important reason, was that she wanted to do well here. The team she was working with, His Obnoxiousness aside, were all really amazing, and the last thing she wanted to do was let Byakuya down on the first job he ever gave her.

_Besides_, a part of her brain she didn't like to listen to contributed, _it's not as though the view bothers you – quite the reverse, in fact!_

With a scowl, she shoved the last few folders into her briefcase. So she may have happened to notice that her verbal sparring partner had a toned, athletic frame, a wicked sense of humour and a rather rakish grin, all things she generally approved of, even if the last two were rarely aimed at her. And Rukia may have also spotted, just in the normal course of things, that while she mocked his height and bright orange hair, there was a part of her that approved of these things too.

Of course, all of these traits were negated by the fact he was an asshat.

Or, so she told herself.

_Do not even go there, Kuchiki. That way madness lies. Well, madness, and probable murder charges. He'd annoy me into strangling him within a week. _

_In any case, I'm stuck with him at work. As Renji would say, I have to 'suck it up'._

_The situation, that is. Not Ichigo._

_Ugh. Note to self – no more trains of thought that involve Ichigo Kurosaki and sucking. _

Rolling her eyes at her overactive imagination, she retrieved her phone from her pocket. _I clearly need to get out more and meet less obnoxious men. I wonder if I can tear Renji away from Nii-sama for the night to help me…_

xXx

_I hate Fridays. _

Throwing himself into his chair and running a hand distractedly through his hair, Ichigo decided to chalk this one up as another defeat.

_Just once, I'd like to not sound like a complete bastard when I talk to Rukia Kuchiki. Once, Kami-sama. That's all I'm asking._

_Dammit. It's like the midget knows just how to get under my skin and dig deeper. Why the hell can't I keep my damn mouth shut?_

Rukia Kuchiki was a problem, at least as far as he was concerned. She had a knack for saying things that seemed to hit all the wrong nerves, and he couldn't help but respond in kind. It wasn't even the things she said; it was her attitude, her tone, all of which screamed 'I'm moneyed up and I'm better than you' and, to a guy who had worked two jobs while studying just to make enough to live on, nothing was more likely to rile him up.

With a grimace, Ichigo swivelled around to face his desk, staring at the pictures she'd brought in. Out of her sight and earshot, he would make the concession that some of these would actually be perfect for other rooms. She had an eye for what would and wouldn't work in a space, he'd give her that. If only she wasn't so Kami-damned annoying…

_Though, to be fair, I seem to piss her off just as much. _

"Earth to Berry-Head! You actually looking at those pics, or tryin' to mind meld with them?"

The arrival of his co-worker definitely meant that any trains of thought involving deeper contemplation came screeching to a halt.

"Fuck off, Grimmjow. I'm busy."

Choosing to ignore this reply, Grimmjow Jeagerjacques simply gave his trademark maniacal grin, pulled up a chair to rest next to Ichigo and, in short, showed absolutely no signs of fucking off in the near future.

"I call bullshit", Grimmjow replied, still grinning smugly. "I know for a fact your meeting with Kuchiki ran short."

Turning to face him, Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "What? So you're stalking me now?"

Grimmjow snorted. "Don't flatter yourself. Fucken everyone knows your meeting ended early. The screaming stopped a good half hour before it usually does."

Ichigo couldn't help but look shamefaced. "I know. Fuck. I go in there every time telling myself that I'll be professional, but either I say something that manages to set her off, or she gets all superior and we just end up at each other's throats."

"Oh, I bet you do", his friend and tormentor chuckled with a sly grin.

With a judiciously applied elbow to the ribs, Ichigo shot back, "For fuck's sake – not like that!"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Why not? She's kinda cute. Bit like Bee, only Bee's less cute and more seriously fucken hot. I think it's the whole short and angry thing."

Instinctively, Ichigo opened his mouth to counter that, frankly, Kuchiki was better looking, before he froze for two reasons.

Firstly, he was about to compare the girlfriend of the guy beside him to another woman, and back the other woman. He'd done a lot of stupid things today, but he wasn't about to fall into that trap.

Secondly, when had Rukia fucking Kuchiki registered as attractive?

_I guess she is. You know, when she's not screaming at me. Which is never._

Still, the way those violet eyes would flare…

_Ok, so I've noticed. No big deal. She's short, though. Too short, right? I mean, it makes her look kinda delicate, except she's got decent curves, too. Not ridiculous ones, but just right. _

_All right, I like her body… And maybe a couple of parts of her face. I mean, the eyes, definitely. And she bites her lip a lot, so I guess I noticed that. In the right circumstances, I guess those lips could be… inviting. _

_Not that I feel like being invited._

_Much._

_Well, shit. _

_She's still a bitch who hates me, so now things just got really awkward._

_Thank you so very fucking much Grimm._

Ichigo broke out of his reverie, only to find that Grimmjow had taken advantage of this and stolen a soft drink out of the bar fridge under his desk.

"Are you seriously taking my stuff?" Ichigo growled, already rankled by the presence of hitherto undetected pro-Kuchiki thoughts.

Grimmjow paused mid-sip. "Well, I guess I could borrow it."

"Borrow? How in the actual fuck would you even return – Oh for – NO!" Ichigo shuddered. "You are so – just have it."

"Sweet." Taking a long swig, he frowned. "You know, Berry-Head - "

"Don't call me that."

" – I can't help but feel that you're goin' too far. I mean, yeah, she gets on your nerves. I get that. But you've been kinda harsh too. If she really was just a spoilt princess, wouldn't she have run to daddy by now and dobbed you in?"

"He's her brother-in-law", Ichigo replied distractedly. He'd wondered the same thing before too, though he usually dismissed it. Maybe she just planned to really screw him over further down the line?

"Same shit", Grimmjow threw back, apparently unconcerned by family trees. "I'm just saying, it may be worth using a bit of restraint. It ain't just something you use in the bedroom, you know."

Ichigo closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. "Ok, first of all, I'm happy for you and Soi Fon, but what you do in private is your own business and I'm fucking begging you – don't tell me any of it. Secondly, who the fuck are you to go talking about restraint? You don't have any!"

"I don't have much", Grimmjow corrected. "And yeah, it's a fair cop. Doesn't matter though. I'm still right."

As much as Ichigo hated to admit it, the man had a point. "I'm trying. Really. She makes it seriously fucking hard though."

"Oh, I bet she does", Grimmjow said with a smirk, only to be cuffed over the head rather sharply by a disgruntled fellow architect. "Oof, I'd be upset about being smacked upside the head if you didn't hit like a girl, Ichi. Anyway, chill. It's Friday, and that means mask night at Alchemy. We're all coming out. I'll even buy you a replacement drink."

It was a tempting offer, one that would help him ignore certain… less than helpful trains of thought. He shrugged. "Sure, I'm in."

xXx

It was strange, Rukia thought, how a mask could give you such a sense of confidence. A little scrap of material shouldn't make so much of a difference but, as she shot a quick glance at the two men on either side of her, if she hadn't known who they were already, she might not have recognised them.

Well, she had to concede that Renji's tattoos put paid to that idea, but she'd already spotted several body doubles for Nii-sama. Nudging Renji, she murmured, "I think you'd better be our meeting point tonight. You're easily the most distinctive person here." Judging from the snort she heard on her left, someone else agreed with her.

Renji raised an eyebrow, and fixed Byakuya with a wry smile. "No mocking. I know for a fact that you like the way I look quite a bit, distinctive or not."

It still made Rukia grin to see the faint blush on Nii-sama's cheeks. "No mockery was intended, I assure you."

Renji's smile turned wolfish. "Good. I'd hate to have to punish you."

Of course, they did have a tendency to take it too far. "Uh, right here. Remember?" She got no response, as they seemed a little occupied with one another so, with a roll of her eyes, Rukia descended onto the dance floor, surreptitiously smoothing down her black-patterned red dress, the square neckline cut low enough to show off more than she would ordinarily have felt comfortable with. The matching mask – black with an identical red pattern – had definitely helped in that respect; her dress was also a good deal shorter than usual and fit her like a glove. She felt more confident knowing that she could go unrecognised here.

_I won't get any crap for being a Kuchiki from this mob at least._

_Ok, drink first, then scan the room and see if I know anyone. Maybe those two will have torn their eyes off one another long enough for me to rejoin them by then. _

She managed to squeeze her way through everybody to reach the bar, only to be told by the bartender that they'd just run out of cranberry juice and, while they were getting some more, her Cosmopolitan would have to wait. She sighed, accepting defeat.

"Here", came a voice from behind her. All of a sudden, her favourite cocktail was being offered to her by a strong, long fingered hand. With a smile, she turned to face her benefactor –

Only to be struck dumb by the sight of an all too familiar head of orange hair above a severely cut black mask.

Ichigo frowned. She didn't seem to be willing to take the offer. Then again, a random guy offering a drink _was_ a little dodgy. And then there was the type of drink…

"Look, my jerk friend told me if I came out with him and his girlfriend and braved being a third wheel, he'd buy me a drink", he began, hoping the seriously hot girl in front of him wasn't about to mace him or think he was crazy. "I probably should have guessed there'd be a catch, and thirty seconds ago he presented me with what has to be _the_ pinkest Cosmopolitan ever made in Karakura. I already had to ditch the half a dozen little umbrellas he felt the need to throw in there. I am really not going to drink this, so it might as well go to a worthy cause."

Rukia was still trying to blink away her confusion. This was Ichigo Kurosaki being civil – to her, of all people. More than being civil, he was actually…

Carefully, Rukia replied, "And what worthy cause would this be?"

He grinned. "Hydrating attractive women, of course. I mean, since both of your wing men have abandoned you for each other", he added, motioning to where Renji and Byakuya were now sitting, talking amongst themselves.

She didn't understand the impulse that drove her to keep the conversation going, but she suspected that it may have had something to do with the fact that she was enjoying herself and the fact that, despite all efforts to discover the contrary, Ichigo Kurosaki was fun to talk to, and possibly even more fun to flirt with.

So long as he didn't know he was talking to _her._

Rukia gave a long-suffering sigh as she looked over to the two men. "You know, it's such a cliché. Girls always say it's a bad idea to introduce attractive siblings to equally attractive best friends." She smiled wickedly, and added, "Though in my case it worked out fine. I get to tease both of them mercilessly."

"Glad to hear it", he responded, his grin equally mischievous. "Any other attractive men lingering about that I should meet?"

"Why?" Rukia asked, all innocence. "Need me to hook you up?"

Ichigo couldn't stop the snort of laughter that escaped. "Hey, you said they were attractive. I'm just making sure the coast is clear."

"Now, why ever would you be doing that?"

A slow smile broke across his features. "Why indeed? Care for a dance?"

Rukia raised an eyebrow at that. "Do you usually ask strange women you've just met to dance with you?"

"Only the fun ones", he replied smoothly, his smile still firmly in place. "Should I be getting a name from you first?"

Now, that was a worrying thought as far as Rukia was concerned.

_I really should tell him. But…_

_I'm enjoying myself. He's actually not so bad at talking to other people._

_And I… I might just want that dance._

_Oh hell, what could it hurt?_

"I don't know about real names", she began slowly. "Half the fun of this night is the anonymity. It'd be a shame to lose that…"

"Mystery girl, huh?" Intrigued, Ichigo pondered this. "Does this mean we get code names like spies?"

That got a laugh out of her. "I guess it does."

"Well, in that case 'I'm Batman'". Judging from the giggles his attempt at pulling off the voice inspired, Ichigo doubted it had been successful.

"No way", Rukia choked out between bursts of laughter. "You cannot do the Batman voice."

"It wasn't _that_ bad", Ichigo replied with a rueful smile. "Besides, the ladies love Batman. I was hoping to trade in on that."

"Mmmm… The tall, dark and brooding thing is hot", Rukia mused. "But if you can't do the voice then you're just Bruce Wayne, and I don't think I can take a guy named Bruce seriously."

Ichigo's smile widened as he cocked his head to the side. "Ok, fair enough. So, does that rule out Frodo as well? How about… 'I'm Luke Skywalker and I'm here to rescue you?'"

She considered this. "Better. I think I can work with that. Fine. Hi Luke, I'm Hermione Granger." Rukia extended her hand, which was instantly taken up in a calloused palm much larger than hers.

_Those are some capable hands he's got there, _the annoying part of her brain pointed out. _I bet they could do some interesting things…_

_Dammit – focus!_

Ichigo's lips twitched into a smirk. "So, hot, smart and a little bossy? I like the sound of that. Lovely to meet you, Hermione. So, this dance we're supposed to be having - "

"I don't recall actually saying yes", Rukia found herself responding playfully, "but I guess I'll make an exception."

"Even if I'm not exactly tall, dark and brooding?"

Rukia shook her head, a small smirk on her face. "I'll just have to cope. Besides", she added, as she raked him over with her gaze, "I rather like what I see anyway."

He still hadn't let go of her hand and, rather than responding, he simply smiled and began to lead her onto a more sparsely populated part of the dance floor, his thumb brushing against the pulse point on her wrist. Rukia had to marvel at the way such a small gesture had heat skittering down her spine.

_So, apparently Kurosaki, when he's not being an asshole, is really, really hot._

_Shit. _

_That is not going to help my mood next Friday._

Ichigo, on the other hand, was in a fantastic mood.

_After all, it's not every night out you get to dance with a hot girl who looks like someone you're attracted to but just so happens to be better, since they're not a bitch._

_I mean, 'Hermione' hasn't looked like she's wanted to kill me once. In fact, her intentions look very interesting…_

_Move over Kuchiki. Here's hoping this gets you out of my head._

Taking his mystery girl in his arms, Ichigo let her move with the music, slowly and deliberately shifting so that they fit together. She was close enough now for him to observe so many details, like the extraordinary length of her eyelashes, the way she smelt faintly of vanilla, or the way her breath seemed to catch when their movement draw her in closer so that she was pulled against him.

As for that last one, Ichigo was fairly certain he probably wasn't breathing normally either. While he'd never exactly been a ladies man, he certainly was familiar with women and he could confidently say he'd never been bowled over by one like this before. He could feel the heat sparking through wherever they touched, and he knew he wasn't the only one; her wide eyes were darkening by the second as they continued to dance. Clearly she was just as attracted as he was.

_This… it's really intense. I have to get to know this girl._

_Hell, if she gets me feeling like this when we're only dancing, I definitely have to pursue this. Throw in the fact that she's fun to talk to and clearly a fan of Batman, and there's no way I'm just letting this go._

Rukia knew she was royally screwed.

_So, apparently dancing with Ichigo Kurosaki has ruined me for all other men._

_Dammit._

The problem, she decided, was that he moved far too well. He knew how to lead without being obvious about it, without blocking her, and the way his hands carefully traced shapes on her back, making her feel prickles of anticipation, ensured that she's be all too willing to follow.

Those warm brown eyes she'd surreptitiously admired looked at her as though their owner wanted to eat her alive slowly, savouring every second.

Which wouldn't have been a problem, except she was fairly sure she was looking back at him the same way.

_I'm far too attracted to him! Worse, when we're not antagonising each other, I'm far too eager to be in his company. He makes me laugh…_

_This is going too deep. I need to get out._

As the song came to an end, Rukia disentangled herself – at some point she couldn't name, their dancing had lead to them being entwined. Her eyes wide, she desperately racked her brain for something to say…

Ichigo wasn't surprised that 'Hermione' had pulled away. As far as he was concerned, there was some serious chemistry at play here and he wouldn't mind a chance to step back and take a breath either.

"So", he began, "that was…"

There was no point denying it. She exhaled. "Yeah." _Dammit Kuchiki, get a grip and say something a little more erudite. Even Ichigo Kurosaki's putting you to shame. _"Look, I'm not exactly the sort of girl who just goes home with - "

"No, I didn't expect - ", Ichigo hurriedly broke in, before gathering his wits. "I'd like to get to know you, though. What about coffee?"

For some reason, she looked a little sad. "I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Why not?" _Shit. I sound like a kicked fucken puppy._

'Hermione' looked even more miserable. "I just get this feeling that it won't be the same."

Ichigo wasn't buying it. "You don't have to explain yourself to me – we just met. But you can't seriously tell me you felt nothing dancing with me. You did, and _I_ sure as hell did. If something else is at play here, fine. If not, how about you come along to mask night next Friday? You go home and think things through, and if you don't show I'll leave it alone. If you do, though… wear the same mask and I'll find you."

Rukia let out a shaky breath.

_Well, this is fine. I don't have to commit to anything just yet – I'll take the week to think it over. Not that I can really do anything but refuse. Still, this way I don't have to be nasty now._

"I can work with that", she replied hesitantly. "You won't try to find me?"

"On my honour as a Jedi", he threw back, his smile reassuring. "So… See you around, Hermione."

"Bye Luke." Her heart beating so fast that she was sure it was audible, Rukia turned on her heel and walked away, determined to find Renji and attempt to make sense of tonight.

Back on the dance floor, Ichigo watched her go.

_Well, that was…_

_I think I might just be starting to like Fridays._

xXx

**So, RL and I are tussling, but I'll try to add some more to this little tale soon.**

**R and R, y'all!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: If I owned Bleach then I could sit back and enjoy my millions, writing my stories whenever the whim took me. Since I don't own Bleach, we are all forced to make do with what little time I have.**

**Sigh.**

**Listening to: The Black Keys - "Lonely Boy".**

_**The Second Friday**_

By the time Saturday morning had rolled around, Rukia had decided not to meet Ichigo again. A twelve hour, relatively sleepless gap after their last encounter had, she felt, given her a chance to assess the situation with some clarity. While she found her co-worker attractive when he took the time to be something other than an asshole, if he could only be civil to her if he was unaware of her identity, he wasn't worth the effort.

_Besides, _she thought to herself with a sniff, _he wasn't __**that**__ attractive._

xXx

By Monday, Rukia had decided that it might also be better if she didn't see Ichigo at work this Friday. She could easily email and call in sick - she'd never done so before, so they'd have no reason to question her. If push came to shove, she could even get Retsu to vouch for her; her brother's friend would probably guess way too much about why Rukia wanted a medical certificate when she wasn't sick, but she'd provide one all the same. Retsu was understanding, if a little too perceptive for Rukia's peace of mind.

It wasn't that she didn't think she could face Ichigo, but Rukia had been having some interesting dreams over the weekend about herself and her tormentor that involved the sullying of the large and, now that she thought about it, conveniently sturdy desk they met at each Friday.

_Ok,_ Rukia re-evaluated, fighting back a blush, _maybe he __**is**__ that attractive. Stupid tall jerk with capable looking hands and an even stupider smirk. Not that I care. _

_Still, the last thing I want is to make an ass of myself in front of him by blushing or getting tongue-tied or whatever. _

Rukia scowled to herself, attempting to quash a far too fond remembrance of the aforementioned smirk that Ichigo - no, _Luke _was far too good at.

_I should have insisted he go with Frodo as a name._

_Or, better yet, Douche Baggins._

xXx

By Wednesday, Nii-sama had started to look at her oddly, and Rukia knew she'd better attend work on Friday or else several questions she really didn't want to answer would be aimed her way. Even Renji had asked her if she was getting enough sleep and, given that he was so wrapped up in her brother that Rukia could have come down to dinner wearing nothing but strategically placed pineapples and he'd probably miss it, that was concerning.

_Not that I would,_ Rukia considered as she flipped her bangs out of her eyes. _I mean, pineapples are prickly..._

_Ugh, stupid sleep deprivation. I'm not even sure which I'm more annoyed about at this point - that thinking about Ichigo Kurosaki is keeping me up at night or that Ichigo Kurosaki himself isn't keeping me up at night._

_I can't even muster up the energy to be disgusted with myself for thinking that. I really do need sleep._

_Well, hell. I'll go into work Friday, I'll play nice and then I'll stay the hell away from him._

xXx

When Friday rolled around, however, all hell broke loose.

xXx

The door of the meeting room slammed open, as Rukia virtually hurled herself out, visibly fuming. Her violet eyes blazed as she stormed down the corridor with strides one wouldn't expect of someone her height, her white knuckled grip on the folder of photos a tell-tale sign of her rage.

_I'm going to make that bastard wish he'd never been born, the lousy, useless - buttface! I don't care if I sound three years old - I wonder if it's too late for Yoruichi to teach me kickboxing? Then I could give the asshat a lesson he richly des - _

"Kuchiki, wait!"

Ichigo swore, as he chased after his target, determined to get to the elevator before she did. The midget, however, moved fast, particularly when motivated by rage - a rage that he had to admit, he deserved.

Still, Ichigo was pretty damn sure he deserved the chance to explain himself as well.

"C'mon Kuchiki, gimme a chance to - "

Without even breaking her stride, the woman in front of him used to free arm to make a crude gesture that clearly indicated that no such chance was forthcoming. As much as Ichigo had to admire who could accurately aim such a gesture behind them, he was well and truly over this.

"Dammit, woman! Just stop for a second!"

Even Rukia had her limits. With a growl, she whirled to face him, her eyes narrowed fiercely.

"Did you seriously just call me 'woman'", she spat, as though even repeating his words disgusted her.

Ichigo had to fight not to wince. _Yeah, she has a point there. Shit - this is not going well._

"My time is fucking valuable, whatever you might think Kurosaki", Rukia continued, in a voice so acid it threatened to strip flesh from bone. "It's the only reason I sit through these damn meetings, despite the fact that I could increase your brain power by a factor of one hundred and it would still be generous to call you a halfwit. I thought you'd insulted me in every way possible, but today I guess I was proven wrong."

Ichigo fought not to groan. He'd had a plan. He technically had today off - most of the Urahara team did after Grimmjow's birthday last night - but he had elected to come in, rather than force her to reschedule. Ichigo was willing - no, determined to be incredibly polite and professional.

He'd even brought stress balls to hide under the table.

He'd had a plan, dammit.

"Kuchiki, look - "

"You were asleep, you bastard! One hour of your fucking time is all I require, and you can't even do that!" Rukia was glad there were no weapons near to hand - her brother had a very good legal team, but they really were specialists in contract law, rather than in defending infuriated young women who had committed murders after extreme provocation.

Still, she'd be willing to bet that if she filmed her interactions with Ichigo for use as evidence, any jury of her peers would let her walk.

Ok, so she had a pretty good reason to be pissed, Ichigo figured, but if he could just -

"Look, I'm sorry, Kuchiki - I really am." He got in quickly, before she had a chance to add to her tirade. "It was my friend's birthday last night and... well, you know how it is."

It had been a late night, and he'd downed a lot of really mediocre coffee to stay awake for this. Apparently, however, it had not been enough.

Neither was his explanation, as far as Rukia was concerned.

"Actually", she replied in withering tones, "I don't know how it is. I'm a professional."

That did it. She wasn't even interested in his side of the story, she just wanted to fight.

At that point, Ichigo was more than pissed enough to give her what she wanted.

"You know what? I made a mistake, and I've apologised", he snarled. "But I don't think you care about that - you just want to rip into me. So fine, go ahead. Somehow I doubt it's being professional that's stopped you from being forced to make a choice between friends and work commitments. Given that you're a serious fucking rich bitch shrew, I bet your brother couldn't even pay people to stand in as friends."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Ichigo knew he'd gone too far. He had about a second to see hurt flash across her face and to curse his temper, before Rukia spun around, smacked the lift button with her palm and slipped through the opening doors. Without thinking, Ichigo grabbed her wrist and pulled her back out, refusing to let his inner bastard have the last word in the conversation -

Only to realise that he'd managed to pull Rukia Kuchiki flush against him.

_Oh..._

_Shit._

He'd had a plan. He'd even had a new plan - to apologise profusely for what he'd just said - but all eloquence had deserted him. All he could think of was how surprisingly well she fit with him despite the height difference, how soft and lush her curves felt, despite her apparent slimness, and her eyes...

In that split second, Ichigo felt like he was drowning in violets. He could read her eyes like a book - now he understood why she tended to avoid his gaze. She was angry with him - oh, that he knew - but there was shock there, shock and something he couldn't quite identify, something that almost looked like attraction -

And that was when she slapped him.

"Shit!" Ichigo let go of Rukia's arm, bringing one hand up to touch his left cheek - which was definitely bright red. The other hand went to grab the folder that she had immediately shoved at his midsection.

"Email me about the ones to keep", Rukia hissed, "and then stay the fuck away from me." With that, she turned on her heel and fled, the doors of the lift shutting just in time for Ichigo to smack his head against them.

_I am such a fucking idiot. As if Rukia Kuchiki feels any attraction to me. It's pretty clear she loathes me - and I don't blame her one bit._

_Me and my big fucking mouth._

_Kami. Fucken. Dammit._

xXx

In the car, speeding home, Rukia still couldn't quite stop shaking, with rage and with -

_Stupid fucking asshat, with his muscles and his eyes like melted chocolate and his callused hands and - _

_That does it. I'm going tonight. I'm going to get that prick to spill all his deepest darkest secrets to Hermione..._

_And then I'll make him pay. _

xXx

To say that Ichigo Kurosaki was in the process of mentally kicking himself would be putting it lightly.

To say the Ichigo Kurosaki was in the process of mentally committing seppuku, on the other hand, would be about right.

Sitting at the bar and staring into his beer, he had to admit that, no matter how much of a bitch Kuchiki had been in the past, she would have every right to treat him that way from now on.

_Dammit. Why in the fuck does my brain-mouth filter have to disengage when she's around? I'm not usually that much of an asshole, I swear!_

He'd even asked around, to be sure. Admittedly, a sample size of two younger sisters and a deranged father didn't make for the most accurate of surveys, but once he got past Yuzu's 'Of course not, Ichi-nii' and his father's 'How could any son of Masaki, an angel descended to Earth, be an asshole', he was able to talk to the most realistic member of his family.

Of course, it didn't help that Karin had just gazed at him steadily with amused dark eyes, then muttered, "You'll have to bring this chick around for dinner sometime when Goatface is out. This I gotta see."

Little sisters were annoying as all hell.

Still, if Karin, who wouldn't bullshit to save herself, didn't think he was a complete and utter bastard, that meant that this was a Rukia Kuchiki exclusive phenomenon.

_Oh, joy._

_Still, I guess it is comforting to know I'm usually not a prick. It would be a hell of a lot more comforting, though, if I could guarantee I never was. I need a plan..._

_Shit, I need to stop thinking about this. Hermione will be here any second and she strikes me as pretty sharp - she's bound to notice that I'm annoyed and I hardly want to introduce another woman into the conversation._

_Especially one who..._

_Aggravates me. Purely aggravation here._

_Yeah, right._

"Penny for your thoughts?"

_Well, shit. _

Taking a deep breath, Ichigo turned around and conjured up a smile, something that became a hell of a lot easier when he saw the woman behind him. Dressed in a black sheath that draped over one shoulder and clung to places that would haunt Ichigo's dreams for some time, Hermione's impish smile of welcome was enough to drive away his train of thought, even if it did come from behind a mask.

Rukia inhaled sharply. It had taken her far too long to calm down enough to present herself - after all, _Hermione _had no reason to be seriously pissed off with the man in front of her - but she'd done it.

Apparently she'd done do far too well. It was too easy to forget how incensed she was when he smiled at her like that, and when he offered her the Cosmopolitan that had been waiting on the bar, her smile wasn't even faked.

_Damn him._

_Damn him for making me feel like this._

"So, Hermione", he drawled, "are you this happy to see me, or just this happy to see a decent drink?"

Rukia snorted. "Seriously?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's hard to tell one from t'other with a face like - "

Her eyes widened as she recognised the quote. "Oh, Kami, no! Please tell me I am not sitting in a bar with a Firefly fanboy!"

"I'll have you know", Ichigo replied, only a little disgruntled, "that particular line comes from the film and not the series. Anyway", he continued, his eyes narrowing, "how did you pick it up so quickly?"

"I - I dabble." She owned the box set.

"Course you do", Ichigo responded dryly. "That's why you look so embarrassed."

She sat down on the bar stool next to him, ignoring his glance. "Shut up."

"So, what's the problem with Firefly?" He was curious; she obviously didn't hate the show, which was a relief.

Rukia rolled her eyes. "Nothing's wrong with Firefly - everything is wrong with people who cannot stop quoting it. It's the new Monty Python..." She broke of as she glimpsed the dangerous look in his eyes. Before he could even open his mouth, she began.

"I don't want to hear about things that are only models, or weapons in bodies of water, or laden and unladen swallows, or coconuts, or the violence inherent in the system, or pushing the pram a lot, or any amount of peril just because you've seen that film too many times!" Satisfied she'd gotten her point across, Rukia waited for his response.

Ichigo's lips twitched. "I don't know. It sounds as though you've seen it a couple of times more than I have."

It was too much for Rukia's sense of the ridiculous. Laughter bubbled up before she could capture it, and she found herself fighting to breathe.

_Dammit, why do I get the feeling I'm revealing more about myself than I'm learning about him? At least __**he**__ doesn't know who he's talking to. I'd probably just get more nasty insults thrown at me._

That thought was more than enough to sober her.

Hermione didn't seem too comfortable with this side of herself, Ichigo decided. She'd just gone awfully quiet...

And that's when he knew what he had to do.

"Hermione Granger", Ichigo began, with the air of someone announcing the meaning of life, which belied the mischief dancing in his eyes, "as a fellow member of this elite community, I am going to teach you to the most important thing you'll ever learn."

"I will teach you how to embrace your inner nerd."

It was at that point that Rukia's laughter drowned out the conversation once again.

xXx

Three hours and several more drinks later, the conversation was still just as animated as before.

"Ok, just please tell me you don't get dressed up and actually act out your Dungeons and Dragons games?" Rukia was trying her hardest not to keep giggling, but the thought of Ichigo dressed as a character from Lord of the Rings wasn't helping.

Ichigo snorted. "Please. There are lines even I don't cross. And it's called larping - say it with me on three - "

"Fuck off", replied Rukia without rancour. "I don't think I can even say that without feeling a little wrong."

With a sigh, Ichigo tried to look as tragic as possible. "Denial. Oh, it pains me still to see it. And we were making such progress..." She dissolved into giggles again. Ichigo had to mentally pat himself on the back. He was getting good at doing this. "Anyway, I don't partake in tabletop role-playing."

Rukia regained her composure long enough to raise an eyebrow. "Never?"

He grinned. "Well, I've got a friend who's really into Star Wars - "

"Funny, does he go around calling himself Luke Skywalker when he introduces himself to women?" Rukia shot back.

"Ha ha, bloody ha. No, it's not me. Anyway, he invited a bunch of us around to play the Star Wars version of Dungeons and Dragons. He gave us a really basic mission where we had to sneak in and rescue a guy, then hightail it out of there." Ichigo's grin widened. Uryuu still hadn't quite forgiven them for this.

"By the end of the mission, we'd staged a murder-suicide, burnt down a bar, tortured a guy to death and threatened a bounty hunter. Grimmjow had decided that his character was going to walk around with the corpse as a life-sized glove puppet, and I think that was the point that Uryuu threw us out on the grounds that we were drunken sociopaths. All in all, good times." Ichigo chuckled to himself.

Rukia snorted. "Sounds like a model UN I went to at university. The guy who was being North Korea declared war on everyone and the security council had gotten drunk together the night before and none of them turned up but me." She grinned. "I passed everything I wanted to that day. Role playing really does bring out the worst in people."

With a grin, Ichigo nodded his agreement. "Model UN, huh? What did you study at uni, anyway?"

They were veering into dangerous territory, as far as Rukia was concerned. _Best keep this light. I don't want him to think that there's too much to this._

"Art and history", she replied, flicking her bangs out of her face. "I curate a small gallery part time - and no, I'm not telling you which one", she added with a smile, seeing a glint in Ichigo's gaze as he went to open his mouth. "What about you?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I'm getting predictable. Well, I'm an architect, though lately I've been..." He trailed off, looking troubled.

Rukia inhaled sharply. _This is it. That bastard is going to trash me verbally and I'll throw it all back at his face._

_Every last thing._

Except, he didn't.

Running a hand through messy ginger hair, Ichigo groaned. "I'm working with a consultant and, while she's got a mouth on her, I just keep managing to say the wrong thing and pissing her off. Worse - she's got a knack for riling me up and I don't think she even means to. She comes from old money, and I just know she thinks I'm trash. It shouldn't bother me, but it does." Taking a swig of his beer, Ichigo frowned. "I went off at her today and said stuff I regretted. I suspect a reprimand is coming when she doesn't show up next week, but I figure I deserve it."

Rukia blinked.

_I may have to pinch myself... Ichigo Kurosaki, supreme asshat, actually feels bad about how he's acted..._

_I am way too pleased about that._

She would never know what possessed her. "Are you sure she's always had the cash? I mean, I've been accused of acting like a snob because my family has money, but we didn't use to." A few white lies wouldn't hurt, right? "It might be worth finding out."

Ichigo nodded. Trust a woman who called herself Hermione Granger to have sensible advice. "I should look into it. Of course, that would have been a hell of a lot more helpful before this situation occurred."

_You're telling me_, Rukia thought to herself. _Never in my wildest dreams would I have assumed that Ichigo actually knew that the way our interactions went was all his fault..._

_Ok, mostly his fault..._

_Oh, crap. It's pretty much fifty-fifty, isn't it? In that case, I really should give him a chance to redeem himself. I mean, before I commit to meeting him again. If he takes the time to do what I recommend, I probably shouldn't write him off as an utter waste of space and if he doesn't..._

_Well, I can take vengeance another way._

_Because vengeance is what I want._

_Right?_

"If face to face interaction just ends in disaster", Rukia started, her tones measured and cautious, "you should probably email her an apology. A good one, I'm guessing. I mean, it sounds as though she's a little bit to blame too, but if you can word things just a touch more tactfully than how you related it to me, you could at least get through to her."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"

Rukia shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Why not? Just make sure you're clear that you're doing this under your own steam and that no one's twisting your arm to get you to write this. I'd be pretty shitty if I thought someone only said sorry because their job was on the line and not because they meant it - and from the sounds of things, she might assume that."

He grinned. "You're right, of course. Hot, funny _and_ smart - I can't imagine what I did to deserve this."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm slumming it."

"Fair enough", he shot back, his grin unabated. "So, will I see you again next week?"

She should say no. Obviously. After all, he wasn't quite as vile as she'd been lead to believe, to perhaps a nasty and underhanded revenge plot was too extreme. On the other hand, while he liked this version of her just fine, he clearly didn't think too much of the other one, so pursuing this was pointless...

Not that she wanted to pursue this. She was just... weighing up her options, so to speak.

_What the hell do I want, anyway?_

_Fuck it, it can't hurt to go along for one more week. Maybe then I'll have a better idea of what I plan to do with..._

_With whatever this is._

So, as Rukia was not a woman who backed down from things that alarmed her, she said yes.

And then bolted as soon as she could. She needed to think things through, and she could hardly do so when she was too busy feeling exposed under a steady dark gaze that threatened to do all manner of things best left to desktops -

Well, she needed to think and, apparently, she couldn't do that near Ichigo.

_Oh dear._

xXx

Ichigo smiled as Hermione left. He had her flustered, and he was pretty damn sure that she wasn't a woman easily flustered.

_Nice to know I'm not alone in this. _

_Now, to convince her to give me a real name..._

xXx

Going home, unfortunately, offered Rukia no further insights.

_What do I want? I mean, really? I don't feel as inclined to slap him as I did..._

Unbidden, she recalled the feel of those muscles against her body, the way they'd tensed up in response to unexpected contact, and how deliciously firm they'd felt under her palms and -

_No!_

_No way, not going there._

_Until I get an email, no matter how attractive he is, Ichigo Kurosaki is still a louse of a man. _

_After all_, she thought glumly, _he's not the messiah; he's a very naughty boy._

xXx

**Well, I have no excuses, other than reality. Hopefully, however, I should have more of this out within the week. **

**Let me know what y'all think - R and R!**


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